This was at once negatived.
"Oh no, cats haven't livers and hearts like human beings. Their insides are nothing but india-rubber. You can't kill a cat. If one fell from the top of San Filiu, it would get up, shake its paws and run away."
We noted this revelation, intending to bring it before the Faculty on our return to England, which evidently still gropes in Egyptian darkness. The catapult was restored to safe depths, and before long no doubt many a domestic tabby would be missing; there would be widowed cats and orphaned kittens in many a household.
Then Ernesto, drawing us under an arcade out of the throng of the fair, insisted upon fastening his mother's mantilla with the new brooch that we might all admire the flashing stones.
"I believe they have made a mistake, and these are real diamonds," he cried excitedly, kissing his mother and duly admiring the effect. "And I haven't spent half my pocket-money yet."
"Thanks to you, señor," said the happy mother. "I was his first thought. He bought me the brooch before he would look at a knife or chestnut. It shall be kept amongst my treasures."
She was evidently almost as happy and light-hearted as the boy, her eyes flashing with proud affection. No great care haunted her life in spite of her conjugal good-morning.
"Confess that your lot is favoured," we said, "and you would not change your lazy husband even if you had the chance. Confess you adore him and are to be envied."
"Well, señor, you are not my father-confessor," she laughed, "but I will confess to you all the same. I admit I would rather bear the ills I have than fly to those of which I know nothing," unconsciously quoting Shakespeare.
"Then the conjugal good-morning must be a little sweetened. It is dangerous to play with edged tools."